United States
October 18, 2010 10:42pm CST
I ask myself this question, daily. I've come a long way from running through the streets of the apartment complexes, with my friend, Shola. I'm thirty, now, with questions upon questions as to where I need to be headed next. I've decided to never step foot back at my high school. Reunions are for measuring up, and whether I have or not, I can't even remember the names or faces of those who I went to class with every day. My mother has cancer. I haven't known her long. She is bitter and disillusioned about life, and her once, bright spiritual light has been darkened to the point where I hardly see a glimmer of it anymore. She shakes her fist at God, who she supposes sits up in heaven waiting to judge her life and her actions, her thoughts and her feelings. There is rage and pain there. There is someone who has had enough, sitting in my mom's place, upon wadded up sheets. She has this tick or quirk where her head shakes like one of those bobble heads - only this isn't funny. She's not smiling and my gut won't un-tighten. I came here to help her. Now, I can't stomach going to see her. I know that time is running out, and it's made so much worse because I'm living in her apartment, where she's supposed to be; not me. How did I ever get to this place? Why am I still a disappointment to myself and my father? Why can't she see me as the son who tried to make a connection after all these years? Why wouldn't she stop smoking? It's killing her, and yet, this is what brings her some amount of satisfaction, so I sit with her, nearly hating myself for it. I promised myself that I would never smoke - and I never have. I made that decision when I was five and tried to hold her to it, as well. I made a deal with her that if she stopped smoking, I never would begin. I kept my end. Why couldn't she keep hers? All this is ridiculous. I'll never get back the love and the tenderness that I got from her singing to me over the telephone. She had this one, special song. it was so eerie in it's haunted beauty. It was about a boy who went to prom and met a girl. They went out outside into the night, for a walk. They laughed and held hands. She took him to a cemetery and they made love. When he awoke, he was all alone; she was nowhere to be found. The next day at school, he asked around for her. No one seemed to know who she was. Several days went by and finally, he went back to that cemetery by the pile of leaves where they had kissed and joined their bodies. He stumbled back with a gasp as he happened to look upon one of the gravestones. Etched into the marble, was her name, her birth.....and her death. My mom can't remember that song anymore. But if I were ever to hear it again, I would shed tears. It's so amazingly powerful. It's one of the many reasons why I was stirred to explore the mysteries behind life a little deeper. Where did that spiritually-confident woman go? Why would God do this to one of his children? If it's a test of faith....he can go to hell. I have no room in this life or the next for such an egotistical tyrant as this. The love shown only when you dance like a puppet to His tune. What kind of a loving Father is this? No one I want to know. That is why I have chosen to go my separate way...the way of the inner discovery. I choose to know a God who does not play those kinds of hateful, spiteful games to satisfy His need for importance. My God has no need of these vanities; at least he has no need to impose them on those weaker than Himself. Where has this need for self recrimination or hurting others, to get your way, come from? Why this need for control of another sovereign human being or soul? Till the Christians, their God, Jesus, or the angels can answer me that, I will continue to find peace and happiness through another means. I will not make the mistake that my mother did, and blindly put my allegiance into a being that shows itself to be malicious and inconsistent. And NO, I do not care that I cannot possibly understand His ways...if He's really that all-knowing, then he can come down to my level and explain it to me, can't he? I have been pushed and prodded, poked and analyzed by some very well-meaning Christians. If only they knew of what they spoke. Anyone can testify or "witness" as it's commonly referred to; but how can they judge upon something when all they've seen is this one Way? How can they claim, in a Universe as diverse and magnificently abundant as this, that there is only one Way? Unconvinced.
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